Chapter 48

After breakfast she and Evan went for a walk. He was quiet and didn't say much, and she did her best to respect his silence. He was probably thinking about the game, she decided. Tim had hinted that he might be this way. Danny had echoed that, telling her that "pitcher's are different". She'd asked Amelia, her softball coach, who had nodded.

"Pitchers, good pitchers, have a book on the other team. They know the tendencies and they go to the mound with a plan, how they're going to throw, and how they can take advantage of the other team's tendencies."

"Doesn't the catcher call the pitches? Not in slow-pitch, of course."

"Of course not. You're there to field your position and help the batter put the ball in play. The catcher might call for a pitch, but the pitcher has to deliver it. They work as a team, but in the end it comes down to the pitcher. If you watch any baseball on TV, you could do worse than watch somebody like Greg Maddux. He knows what he wants to throw, and he'll be an inning or two ahead of the guy in the batter's box."

"He's thinking that far ahead?"

"Maddux does. Study the guys who throw slow, not the ones who throw hard. They have to rely upon their smarts. They'll throw a pitch in the 2nd inning to set up a pitch they'll throw two or three innings later to the same batter."

"It sounds like there's more going on than I thought." Devlin said after a bit.

Amelia nodded. "That's what I like about this sport. There's a level of thinking that you don't see in track, which I went out for in high school. A lot of it is thinking ahead: if this happens I have to do that. People who don't understand the sport, and those who don't go very far in it, don't see that. So if your boyfriend seems distant on the day of the game, give him the space. He's already playing the game, and that's a good sign."

She and Evan spent some time tossing bread crumbs to a flock of pigeons. She liked that. It was something they did together, even if it was something that he would forget in 10 minutes.

Eventually they got back to the hotel and he left for the park, saying he wanted to look at some tapes. At loose ends she knocked on Krissi's door.

Krissi was dressed and sitting in front of the mirror brushing her hair and making faces.

"What are you doing?" Devlin asked.

"Practicing my smile," Krissi said. "It's important during a book signing. You smile, say something to the person in front of you, ask them how they want it signed, do the deed, and look at the next person."

"She's been doing that all morning," Steve said from the table. He was leafing through the newspaper, clearly looking for something. "Ah, here it is. It's an ad in the Arts & Entertainment Section." He held the paper out and Devlin took it.

"What does it say?" Krissi asked.

"It's an announcement of the book signing," Devlin said. "It doesn't have a picture of you or anything."

"They seldom do. Ever notice how the picture on the book doesn't match what the person actually looks like?"

"I just figured it was a professional photographer," Devlin said. She saw the book bag sitting next to Steve. "What did you get yesterday that you didn't want to show me at the park?"

Steve laughed and took three trade paperbacks out of the bag. "It's an independent bookseller, which means they do their own buying, and I found these in their Adult Section."

"These are Krissi's books," Devlin said, leafing through them.

"Rose and the Boy with the Donkey Dick, and Rose and the After School Orgy Club," Steve said, "and let's not forget Jesse's Creampie Birthday Party. There were a couple of others back there, but people were reading them. I saw Betty Big Tits and Television Stud. Frankly, Kris, I prefer your Rose stories."

"Give me a break," Krissi said as she pinned her hair up. "Betty Big Tits, and Television Stud were the first porn stories I ever wrote. I didn't have the format figured out."

"The clerk in the back room said the most popular story was Slut For A Day. Apparently that sells out as fast as it comes in."

Krissi put down her hair brush and looked at Steve. "That thing? I may have to check the list I get from the publisher. I didn't know it was doing so well."

"He said they sold 15 copies in the last two weeks."

"I'm going to have to really get with the publisher," Krissi said, "or have my agent call them." She turned back to the mirror. "Probably the latter. She can be an absolute terror when it comes to checking the sales figures."

"What's it about?" Devlin asked. "Or do I need to ask."

"It's a high school where every week one girl is chosen at random to be an absolute slut for one day, and her friends can't say anything bad about her."

"Yeah, like that would happen. There's a reason I kept to myself when I was in high school."

"This is fantasy," Krissi said, "well, porn, which is much the same thing, and you can get away with things like that. Anyway, a girl gets to be a slut, and of course all of the boys have a go with her. To be kinky, a few girls do, too."

Steve opened the book at random and began reading. "Tommy slowly thrust his 10" cock into Candy's dripping pussy. "God, you're so tight," he said as he began fucking her. He pushed her legs farther apart, and the entire class could see her pink gash and the white cum from the previous boy pouring down her ass and pooling on the teacher's desk.

""So good," she whimpered. "Fuck me with that horse cock. God, fuck me, fuck me hard!"

"Tommy tried, but her pussy grabbed at him, milking his cock, and after only a few thrusts he couldn't help it. With a groan he came, pumping load after load of his hot baby juice into her willing belly.

"Candy wailed as she felt his blasts of jism. She clutched at his arms as she came, her pussy clamping down on his cock like a velvet vise, trying to draw every last ounce of his man cream."

"How many more of these did you write?" Devlin asked, surreptitiously wiping her hands on her jeans. It was trash, but she could just picture it happening.

"About a dozen," Krissi said. She tossed the hair brush down and got up. "They're quick to write. It takes more skill to write porn than you think, but the readers aren't after the subtle nuances of character and plot."

"More skill? I would have thought it would be easy."

"You don't want to repeat yourself, at least in the same story. That means you have to use a little imagination."

"Your fans are probably reading it one-handed," Devlin said.

"That's the idea," Krissi said. "Now no carping, or I'll put you in the next one. Oh," she added as Devlin opened her mouth to protest, "I'll change the name, location, and what you do, but I'll put in everything else, especially your figure."

"You wouldn't!"

"Actually I wouldn't," Krissi said. "I value privacy as much as you do, but you have to admit, some of the stories you've told me would be pretty good."

Devlin nodded. "Yeah, I guess they would, if I could remember most of what happened."

"There is that. We don't exactly take notes when we're in bed with a guy, do we."

Devlin took the book from Steve and opened it at another page. "Candy almost gagged on his cock. She had to distend her jaws, but she took him all the way to his balls. She could feel the fat head poking at the top of her throat.

"She began sucking, her hand moving back and forth on his cock as she took him. At the same time she felt Rob Snider lift her skirt. He slid his hardness into her willing pussy, slamming forward hard enough to make her body shake.

"She took Jack's cock out of her mouth long enough to tell Rob, "Fuck me hard. God, I love it when you do."

"Other kids gathered around them in the hall as Rob fucked her from behind and Jack fucked her mouth. For a delirious moment she thought the two were going to meet somewhere in her middle, and she could just picture two cocks dueling it out like swordsmen in her middle."

"She stroked and sucked Jack, quickly bringing him to the boiling point. He shot spurt after spurt of his thick, creamy load down her throat. She swallowed as fast as she could, but she couldn't get it all and it poured out of her mouth. That set Rob off, and Candy moaned as his hard meat erupted deep inside her.

"God, I'm coming," she gasped moments later. Her insides spasmed around him, trying to suck every life-giving drop from his overworked balls. It felt like he pumped a quart of his cream into her before he fell back, his rapidly shrinking cock slithering out of her. It was the third time he'd fucked her that day and he was exhausted."

"You've got to be kidding me," Devlin said. "People buy this stuff?"

"So far this year I've made as much writing porn as I have writing my teen romances," Krissi said. "What's the matter? They're just words on a page."

"It seems so overblown."

"It's supposed to."

"You did get one thing right," Devlin said, rereading the section. "I got double-ended once, and I did fantasize that the two guys were going to meet somewhere in my middle."

Krissi nodded. "That's one of the few reality bits I put in there. Other than that, though, it has all of the classic elements: the girl is willing, eager, orgasmic, and is pleased by every guy whom she fucks. The guys are all long, hard, and recover fast, there's a hint of violence, I have at least one sex scene in every chapter, usually two because it is pornography, and everyone ends up satisfied.

"It isn't quite as rigid a formula as, say, a harlequin romance, but those are the required elements."

"That sounds like the way they used to do ice-skating," Steve said. "There were the compulsory figures, and then there was the free skate."

"Sometimes writing is like that," Krissi said.

Devlin had been flipping through the book. "Every guy seems to have thick, creamy loads. And they all taste great, too. I don't think so. Sometimes it's runny, sometimes it's thick, but it's usually bitter, and it's always salty."

"True," Krissi said. "But this is fantasy, remember?" She glanced at Steve, who was staring pointedly at the wall. "Guys don't know what their stuff tastes like."

"I notice you don't say anything about what she's feeling, except a bare minimum."

"One of the differences between erotica and porn is that in porn the girl doesn't have much in the way of feelings. She's just this side of a blow-up doll. In erotica you get a little bit inside the character's head. That's one of the reasons why I think hot romances do so well, they validate the reader's feelings."

"You're taking all of the fun out of reading romances," Devlin said. "Of course since I met you I haven't read very many."

Krissi smiled. "It's like what they say about laws and sausages. Anybody who likes them should not see how they're made. It's the same with formula romances and 90% of pornography and erotica." She glanced at the clock. "Now I've got to get going. I'm due at the bookstore in 30minutes."

"Let me use the bathroom," Steve said as he got up.

Devlin waited until the bathroom door had closed. "How much does he know about Tim and Emma's?"

"Nothing, and I'd appreciate it if he didn't learn anything."

Devlin nodded. "He won't from me."

"I might not be going as often as I have in the past. I hope you don't mind."

"I understand." She sighed. "One of the parts I'll miss is waking up with you on Sunday morning."

Krissi smiled wistfully. "Yeah, that's kind of special." She looked up as Steve came out of the bathroom. "All set?"

"Let's go," he said, nodding.

Left at loose ends, Devlin returned to her room and opened one of the textbooks she'd brought with her. When it was time she changed and then called Trish. She met Mary Alice, and they rode to the restaurant in silence. Devlin felt her palms sweating. She hated things like this. She'd have to be on her best behavior, and these women were going to judge her on her hair, her make-up, her clothes, her figure, and maybe her personality. It reminded her of something her aunt had done once when she'd had to meet all of her cousins. If she'd gotten through that, then she could get through this.

The names were a blur. She remembered faces, wide, thin, or in between, and hair, black, brown, blonde, and auburn. There weren't as many of the wives as she had expected, and she generally sat quietly, only answering direct questions and only volunteering a little. She did learn a few things that she filed away for the future.

The team came first. These gals rearranged their lives around that of the team. Their husbands came ahead of them, at least when he was playing. And they were more independent than other wives she'd met. She could understand that. A baseball season lasted all summer, and the men were away for half that time.

She'd heard that military wives segregated themselves according to their husband's rank. She didn't see anything like that here. Everyone seemed at ease with everyone else. There were a couple of clear leaders, their husbands had been with the team the longest. But even those two gals didn't strike her as being controlling types. They had just been around the longest and knew where the best places to eat and shop were.

They got to the ballpark about 6:30. The guys were still warming up. Devlin could see Evan in the bullpen with one of the catchers, while Bo was playing catch in the outfield. The women with kids got them settled. Those without made runs to the bathroom and drink concessions to help those with kids. Devlin took the opportunity to visit the Ladies Room. Once safely in the stall she swapped her bra for a more comfortable one she'd brought in her purse.

Krissi and Steve showed up just before the National Anthem. Krissi had changed into shorts and a white blouse and was smiling happily.

"Have a good time?" Devlin asked.

"I got about a dozen people at the first place," Krissi said. "I had over a hundred at the second, and they cleaned my books out of the store."

"They picked over the whole teenage romance section," Steve said. "The store owner looked positively giddy. I saw one girl leave with a dozen books in her bag."

"That's one of the reasons I like book signings," Krissi said. "You get to meet the people who are your readers. Your characters are real people to them, just as much as they're real to you, too."

"You have another one tomorrow, don't you?"

"I have a reading at 11:00, with a signing afterwards, and another one at 3:00 across town."

"Well, I'll be here tomorrow evening."

"We'll have to... oh, the game's starting. Steve showed me how to keep score and I told him I'd try it tonight."

Trish showed up moments later. "Sorry," she said, "but there was a monstrous line for the Ladies Room."

"You haven't missed much," Devlin said. "The managers have thrown out the first temper tantrums and the team mascot is leading cheers.

The game proceeded on in its usual languid way, with Devlin and Trish exchanging the occasional comment. By the seventh inning, Evan had struck out six and walked one. After the Seventh Inning Stretch Devlin studied her score sheet, and noticed something. Krissi saw it, too.

"Say," she said, pointing at the scoreboard. "I just noticed. The Cubs don't seem to have gotten any... mmmph." She looked startled as both Devlin and Steve clapped their hands over her mouth.

"What did I say?" Krissi asked, prying their hands away. "All I said was..." She didn't get any further as their hands smothered her again.

"Don't say a thing about it," Steve said. "We see it, but don't say a thing," he added as she tried to say something.

"He's right, Krissi," Devlin said. "Don't say a thing. Talk about anything else, but don't say a thing about what you just noticed."

Krissi was silent for several seconds. "You'll have to tell me why," she said, removing Steve's hands.

"Later," Devlin promised. "Ever notice how good some of those guys look in their uniforms?"

"You mean you just noticed that?" Krissi said.

"Oh, I noticed some time ago."

"Why bring it up now?"

"Because the batter just bent over to rub something on his bat, and I got a good look."

Krissi grinned. "Yeah, that one's particularly fine."

Devlin could feel the tension mounting in the last two innings. In the eighth Evan struck out his seventh batter with a slider that had the batter backing off the plate, and he got the other two to ground out. Then, in the ninth, he seemed to bear down, especially after he walked the first batter. He walked around the pitcher's mound, took a deep breath, dug at the rubber with his cleats, stepped to the backside of the mound to kick at the dirt, stepped back on the rubber, and snap-threw to first, picking the runner off cleanly. Then he took off his cap, wiped the sweat out of his eyes, played with the resin bag, then finally put his foot on the rubber and leaned in for the sign. Two pitches later, the batter hit a grounder to the shortstop, who threw the man out in plenty of time.

Evan looked in again, shook off one sign, then came back with a breaking pitch... swing and a miss. He wasted one into the dirt, then threw a fast ball low and away... another swing and a miss. He drew another deep breath, went to the set position, and threw one more, a giant curve ball that froze the batter completely for a called third strike.

The place erupted as the final out walked back to the dugout carrying his bat. Evan was mobbed on the field by his teammates. Devlin turned and hugged Krissi, then turned and hugged Trish, who was screeching and waving madly.

"All right," Krissi said as they picked their way to the aisle. "What was that all about?"

"He just through a no-hitter," Devlin said. "Look at that scoreboard. No hits, no runs, no errors."

"It's what a pitcher wants every time he goes out," Steve added.

"But you never mention a no-hitter while it's happening," Devlin said. "That would jinx it. Never, never, never."

"We couldn't see it," Steve added, "but Evan was the loneliest guy in the dugout tonight. When he was in the dugout, nobody would talk to him or even sit near him. Nobody was going to talk to him, either."

Krissi looked surprised. "Because of that jinx thing?" Steve nodded. "They take their superstitions seriously."

"That they do," Devlin said. "That they do." They walked down the steps to the main concourse.

Krissi glanced at the team store. "I thought they'd be closed by now," she said.

"Wait here," Devlin told Steve. "We should have plenty of time."

Krissi made a beeline for the tee-shirts. "I suppose the team is celebrating."

"No-hitters don't happen every day," Devlin said. She saw the ball-caps on the wall and headed for them. The Sacramento Rivercat hats were tucked in one corner. After trying on a couple, she found one she liked and that fit. All of the jackets were for the Iowa Cubs, as were most of the other things in the store, so she gave up on those.